About me
by mindless-junk-247
Summary: Rivers POV: "I’m not crazy but I am. Does that make sense?" Her insight to what the crew think of her as a person


**A/N: **Just a one shot into the mind of River Tam, the resident crazy person.

**Disclaimer:** Nothing belongs to me as Joss Whedon is the master and creator of an unlawfully cancelled show.

Please enjoy.

* * *

Voices cry out and sing through the walls. I hear screaming when others don't and my feet carry me towards it. Past the infirmary I see Simon. My brother. My doctor. That's what I see him as. He sees me as this little girl. Scared, lost, terrified. Broken. He sees me as this broken vase that needs to be put back together with perfect precision. With his hands.

I wander on, the cargo bay touching my feet. The music pounds through the floor and I listen to the vibrations. Working out, relieving the stress that a woman can't at the moment. Jayne. He's who I hear now. So simple I must pull my head away. He's the simplest one of everyone on this boat. But he finds me the craziest. "Crazy" is his term. I'm not crazy but I am. Does that make sense?

Cold steps hit my warm feet in a contradiction. The screams echo just that little bit louder.

My eyes look down again. The man with the scary hair, Sheppard, or book as others call him. He's spotting for Jayne, a towel over his shoulder for the sweat they pour off their bodies. I know he's more complicated than me. He doesn't care what the blue hands did. He knows I was in there for a reason. I delve deeper, but barriers prevent further intrusion and I'm only able to grasp that he isn't completely complacent with the idea of me freely moving around the ship.

I shrug it off and turn up the steps. Screaming dies down a little bit here. Or did they just quieten down by themselves? I'm not too sure. But I decide I'll visit that later.

Humming runs over the walls and I listen. My feet want to move to the tune, ballet and other forms of art pushing through. I swallow them and move forward just out of sight. The humming is hers, a tune from home that she gives live every time she can. She's holding on to what little she has of her home.

I want to let it go.

She's bubbly and fun, like a sister I never got, a brother instead. I can tell she thinks of me as her sister. A younger sister, one who she can just hang around with all day, doing the most childish of things and still be happy. It makes her smile that I'm not too far broken. It makes me smile too.

I turn, letting her happiness go for just a second. The galley is empty and I pause for a moment at the peacefulness there is in here. It's quiet. Just the way I like it. My arms lift slightly, trying to catch the air of stillness. But it fades at a quiet sob. My eyes open and a wave of passion rushes over me.

It moves me forward, breaching the boundary of galley and corridor that leads to the bridge. I stand and listen. It's Wash and Zoë, in each others arms. How they work out confuses me. It doesn't make sense but I understand. It's love. Love makes us do the craziest of things apparently. But she's a warrior, a killer. She's seen blood and death and delivered it too.

He only uses violent as a last resort. He likes things to be smooth and non violent. They're opposites, not suited for the other, but opposites attract. That's the physics behind it. Zoë's thinks I'm needed under lock and key. Sometimes I agree with her. Too uncontrollable and too unpredictable. Wash thinks I'm a kid just trying to move on from what happened.

I like him because of that. He makes me feel young again. Zoë makes me afraid of myself, but somebody has too. She's also forgiving so, I can compromise with her.

The wave crashes down and that little sob, stab of pain and cry of guilt runs shivers up my body. Male and female. Man and Woman. Two to mix into one.

I follow.

My journey leads me back to the cargo bay and I stand on the catwalk that adjoins the two shuttles. I wait. Mal storms out first, face set in stone of fury. He'll never admit it but she makes him hurt and laugh at the same time. He doesn't know what to do, she fogs things up and I'm the one who hears it all. He passes by me, a confident, false smile and a nod to me. I smile timidly and follow his tracks with my eyes. I'm still a kid in his eyes, almost an adult. He sees me as an person in between naïve and smart. Mal knows I'm smart but will never admit it. He likes control and sees me as an off balance. I'm not easy to control.

My eyes turn back to the shuttle he departed no more than five seconds ago. Inara's shuttle. He doesn't know but his views about her job and way of life hit home more than she's willing to show. She hides the pain and everyone but me and Mal can see it. She doesn't realise that no amount of training can hide her feelings perfectly. A young girl waiting to bloom. That's me in her eyes. But that's every girl she sees.

I'm just another girl to her, and that makes me feel warm and normal.

I retreat, shutting out the sobs her mind lets loose. My feet take me back to the galley and I sit. It's a sit down meal soon.

One by one they all come in and my mind assesses their thoughts on me. I always like to know what others think of me, helps me to trust them. Simon thinks I'm broken, still his little sister that wouldn't be able to cope without him. Kaylee, I'm her sister in her eyes. Easy to entertain and easy to play with. Both true and untrue. I like challenges and she doesn't present them, doesn't know how to.

Wash knows I'm still a child, likes to think I'm innocent and he becomes my second brother at the care. Zoë is the one still unsure, still a little worried about the consequences of not being too careful. I don't blame her.

Me, in Jayne's mind is simply, "Crazy". Untrustworthy lingers there and guns for emergencies. But mostly I'm crazy to him. The preacher man doesn't believe in religion when it comes down to me. I can't quite pick him apart.

Inara's thoughts is a girl like any other. I've just had a few problems. Mal is a simple one as well, a child enjoying life and making the most of what she has.

Food is served and my mind still ponders over peoples thoughts.

A smile I'm sure, is on my lips. I hope is it because when I put all of these thoughts together, it makes me feel normal for the first time in a long time.

And I enjoy it.


End file.
